


Briar and Myrtle

by topleaf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cultural Differences, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mild Crude Humor, Only a little bit of crack, Silliness and cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topleaf/pseuds/topleaf
Summary: It's the start of the Quest for Erebor, and Thorin and Bilbo's ponies insist on always walking side-by-side.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 24
Kudos: 233





	Briar and Myrtle

**Author's Note:**

> [A hobbit kink meme fill.](https://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=22488811#t22488811)
> 
> Prompt: "Thorin and Bilbo's ponies fall in love, then they do."

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield rode their ponies along the path leading them out of Bywater and into the woods. Gandalf had insisted that they bring along an extra pony for their burglar, convinced that he would catch up to them. Coin purses were being tossed left and right as the Company bet on whether the hobbit would actually turn up. 

Thorin scoffed when Gandalf asked if he’d like to participate in the wagers. Balin had encouraged him to leave the contract in the hobbit’s home just in case, but Thorin already felt a bitter regard for him. Agreeing to come on the quest, then changing his mind after meeting Thorin and his kin? Not to mention the fainting... it only reminded Thorin that his quest was likely doomed already. 

Thorin looked over his shoulder at the small mare without a rider trailing closely behind his stallion. Briar was his pony’s name, _the oldest and strongest of them all_ , the hobbit at the stables had said. They had only been riding the ponies for a short while, but Thorin felt attached to Briar already. He was a noble and handsome creature, with a mane of grizzled dark hair, similar to Thorin’s own. 

Gandalf rode a horse next to him at a noticeably slower pace than was necessary. Not to mention, the old wizard kept looking back toward the way they came and huffing to himself.

“Your hobbit will not come,” Thorin said. “We should quicken our pace.”

Gandalf shot him a glare. “I don’t doubt him and neither should you! Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if Bilbo is already on his w—”

“Wait!”

The Company halted their ponies and turned to see the little fellow running as quick as his feet could carry him, the contract blowing around in the wind.

“I signed it!” The hobbit grinned, catching Balin’s eye and bringing it to him.

He doubled over once Balin took the contract to examine it. Thorin had to stare at him in disbelief for several seconds. The hobbit, who probably had never been forced into strenuous labour or a hard day’s work, had run all this way.

Gandalf looked at Thorin with that twinkle in his eye that said ‘our burglar is adorable, isn’t he?’ Last time Gandalf had given him that look it was right before the hobbit had fainted.

“It appears everything is in order,” Balin announced. “Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

There were a few scattered cheers here and there, no doubt from the few dwarves who had bet on their burglar actually turning up.

Thorin watched as Balin’s pony attempted to nuzzle the hobbit’s curly hair, making him jump. 

“Give him a pony,” Thorin said, turning away to hide his smirk.

After some protesting, the hobbit was lifted onto the mare that had been trailing behind Briar all morning. 

“Bilbo, this is Myrtle. Myrtle, Bilbo,” Kili said. “Our smallest pony for the smallest member.” Him and Fili turned to each other, whispering and snickering.

The hobbit spent several minutes fussing and complaining about how he could walk perfectly fine, was allergic to horse hair and animals in general, and that his bottom would hurt something most terrible the next day.

The worst part was that Thorin could not even get away from it, because the hobbit seemed insistent on trailing right behind him. When Thorin tried to move slightly to the right, the hobbit followed.

“Oh, _ninny-hammers._ Where are you going?!” The hobbit exclaimed, yanking Myrtle’s reigns back to the left.

At the same time, Briar decided to slow down until Myrtle was trotting right beside him. Thorin nudged Briar but he only let out a little breath, his ears pricking forward.

Thorin looked at the burglar from the corner of his eye. He looked mortified. 

“I’m afraid I have no experience with riding,” He said. His tone was conversational rather than apologetic, despite the wideness of his eyes and the pink tinge of his ears.

“Sit up straight. Do not squirm,” Thorin told him shortly. “She will do the rest.”

“Right,” the hobbit said, stiffening up.

Thorin nudged Briar with his heels and he quickened his pace to go on ahead, matching the pace of Gandalf and his horse. The hobbit’s mare had her snout right behind Briar’s rear the entire day.

* * *

When the Company left camp one morning, Bilbo had been near the back of the group with Balin. The two of them planned to ride next to each other. Thorin and Gandalf were up front as usual, when the hobbit let out a yelp and Myrtle galloped past the entire Company until she was trotting alongside Briar again. The Company roared with laughter. 

“Good gracious,” Bilbo exclaimed. “I promise I didn’t tell her to do that.”

Thorin reached out and stroked Myrtle’s sandy brown mane, speaking in a low voice. “Easy, girl.”

He looked up to meet the hobbit’s eyes.

“Well, if you’re so good at horse-whispering, tell Myrtle to take me back to Balin,” Bilbo said. “He was just about to tell me a story. How rude of me to take off like that!”

“Pull back on the reins. Have her stop until Balin catches up,” Thorin replied flatly. 

Bilbo let out a huff, mumbling something, then followed Thorin’s instructions and waited for Balin.

The same thing happened the next day. Bilbo failed to control Myrtle, she galloped to where Thorin rode Briar, and this time nothing Bilbo did would make her stop.

“I think Myrtle would like to lead the way,” Bilbo chuckled. “She seems to be a very headstrong girl.”

“Indeed,” Thorin replied, amused. “Are you sure you are not kicking her? Your feet _are_ quite large.”

Bilbo gasped as if scandalized. “Hah! As if you dwarves aren’t wearing boulders for boots!”

“And what will you do when we pass through the Misty Mountains? That road will not be kind to folk who insist on traveling barefoot.”

“Are you teasing me?” Bilbo exclaimed.

“I am serious,” Thorin replied, but his lopsided grin said otherwise.

Bilbo scowled at him. “I’ll have you know, my mother and I used to go walking all over the Shire, even in winter!”

Thorin snickered. “Alright, Master Baggins, I did not wish to offend.”

“Of course not,” Bilbo said flatly.

Awkward silence filled the air except for the giggles and jests from the dwarves trailing behind them.

* * *

“What is going on back there?!” 

“Oh, for Durin’s sake.”

The Company was in hysterics at what happened the next day. Myrtle and Briar had stopped in the middle of the path, halting all the ponies in their tracks.

Myrtle was in front of Briar with her tail up, urinating, while Briar leaned forward to smell her rear. Bilbo and Thorin sat atop their respective ponies, helpless and disgruntled.

“Write that down, Ori, write that down!” Nori managed to wheeze out between cackles.

Dori tried to cuff his brother on the head, but Nori ducked just in time.

Ori was madly scribbling in his journal that he used for documenting the quest. 

Bofur whistled loudly. Fili and Kili had to dismount and fall to the ground, they were laughing so hard at the display. 

“The poor thing is in heat!” Gloin called out, shaking his head.

Bilbo and Thorin both glared darkly at the Company. The two of them together could’ve formed a stormcloud.

“Are you quite finished yet, Briar?” Bilbo snapped at the stallion. “Thorin, tell him to lay off!”

“Your mare enticed him!” Thorin growled.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Come now, Myrtle, you’re far too good for that mangy nag.”

“Mangy—Briar is one of the Shire’s most prized stallions! A king of ponies!”

“Pah! That old lump? Well I—,” Bilbo did a double take behind him. “Oh, what are they doing now?”

Briar was attempting to mount Myrtle. Thorin was very much considering threatening to neuter his pony if he didn’t stop.

Eventually, they managed to continue on the journey. During their next stop at an inn, the ponies were taken good care of at the stables, and Myrtle was given medicine to lessen her...needs. 

“Give her this every four days until you run out, Mr. Baggins,” the stable master said. “If she seems to be in any pain, I’d suggest giving her a rest for a few days. You lot aren’t in a hurry are you?”

“Erm. I do believe we’ll manage,” Bilbo replied with a flat smile. Great. Another reason for the dwarves, especially Thorin, to see him as a burden. Even though it was not his fault!

“Right, well, I’ll take good care of your girl til’ tomorrow.” The stable master tipped the brim of her straw hat.

Bilbo gave Myrtle a little pat on the muzzle before following the others into the inn.

* * *

“And then Thorin’s pony tried going at it with Bilbo’s!” Kili hollered. He and Fili were retelling the entire story that everyone in the Company had seen with their own eyes. Everyone was laughing as if they hadn’t, of course.

Bilbo and Thorin looked at each other and shook their heads. Despite the medicine to stop Myrtle from her previous behaviour, she still wanted to be near Briar. The hobbit and dwarf had resigned to riding side-by-side the rest of the journey, until the ponies stopped being difficult.

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t ride in silence the whole way,” Bilbo said. “That would be miserable indeed. Want to tell me a story?”

Thorin sighed. “Regrettably, most of my stories will not bring much cheer.”

“Oh, come now, Thorin, I’m sure you weren’t always this gloomy,” Bilbo said playfully. When Thorin’s permanent scowl didn’t fade, Bilbo licked his lips and continued. “Alright, how about I start.”

“Go on, Master Baggins, I’m listening.”

“Right. Well, truth be told, all my good stories mainly center around my tweens,” Bilbo began. He noticed Thorin raise an eyebrow. “‘Tweens’ is—that’s what we hobbits call the time just before we come of age.”

“Ah, around when you were in your forties,” Thorin gave him a nod of understanding. “Those are usually mischievous days, indeed.”

Bilbo laughed awkwardly. “No, no, more like the twenties.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. “So your childhood?”

“No you’ve got it all wrong,” Bilbo said, slightly exasperated. “I am fifty now, Thorin, these stories come from—”

“Fifty?” Thorin sputtered, then shouted ahead at the wizard. “Gandalf, are you aware you brought a minor on our quest?”

“Oh, for Yavanna’s sake, hobbits age differently than dwarves, I’m sure!” Bilbo snapped. “I am at a comfortable middle age, thank you very much.”

Thorin breathed a sigh of relief, and that was when Bilbo noticed mutters from the Company behind them. They’d been exceptionally silent, as if listening in on the pair’s conversation. 

“Now that I’ve been forced to reveal my age, how old are you, may I ask?” Bilbo cut through the silence.

“Much older than you by simple numbers, that is certain,” Thorin responded. “I am well over one hundred.”

“Good gracious, you _are_ old,” Bilbo teased, then reached out to pat Briar’s neck. “You and this old man are well suited indeed.”

There was a flash of white in Thorin’s face along with a deep chuckle. Thorin had smiled. The way he looked down, almost _bashfully_ , and cleared his throat afterward made Bilbo’s heart flutter.

The sound of coin purses clinking behind them filled the short silence until Bilbo finally began telling Thorin tales from his tweens. Eventually, Thorin would share some of his own. Myrtle and Briar refused to be separated for many weeks to come.

* * *

The rolling green hills of the Shire were a sight to cure any ailment. Gandalf and Bilbo dismounted their horse and pony at the Bywater stables.

“Ah, this reminds me of the beginning of our journey,” Gandalf said, smiling down at Bilbo fondly. 

“Is this where you picked up the fourteen ponies?” Bilbo asked, hoisting his various bags off his pony, Honeybee. “That must have caused quite the stir throughout the Shire.”

“Yes, indeed,” Gandalf replied. “Now, say your goodbyes, we must continue the journey on foot before we get too weary.”

Bilbo gave Honeybee a little pat. She had been gifted to Bilbo by Beorn, and would reside in the Shire for the rest of her days, if Bilbo ever needed her.

He continued to stand there, shifting from foot to foot. The stable master stared at him expectantly.

“Actually, I wanted to ask. Did any ponies from our journey make it safely back to you?” Bilbo asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“Ah yes, a few of them did, in fact!” The stable master exclaimed. “Myrtle, Briar, and Daisy.”

Bilbo’s face lit up at that. “Myrtle and Briar? Oh, how marvelous.”

“Did I hear that correctly?” A low voice joined in. Thorin walked out of the stable after he made the necessary payments to the stable master’s assistant.

“Yes, our dear ponies made it home safe,” Bilbo held out his hand and Thorin took it, giving it a squeeze. He turned back to the stable master. “How are they doing?”

“Well, you’ll be delighted to hear that the two got busy and Myrtle’s due to have a foal in just a few days!”

Gandalf, Thorin, and Bilbo all burst into laughter. 

“That is good news, indeed,” Thorin said, looking down at Bilbo. “A happy ending.”

“Thank goodness,” Bilbo beamed. “We owe a lot to them.”

**Author's Note:**

> Uist Tramping Song
> 
> Come along, Come along, let us foot it out together,  
> Come along, Come along, be it fair or stormy weather.  
> With the hills of home before us and the purple of the heather,  
> Let us sing in happy chorus come along! come along!
> 
> So gaily sings the lark and the sky is awake,  
> With the promise of a new day for the road we gladly take.  
> So its heel and toe and forward singing fairwell to the town,  
> And the welcome that awaits us e're the sun goes down.
> 
> Its the call of sea and shore; its the tang of bog and peat,  
> And the scent of briar and Myrtle that puts magic in our feet.  
> So its on we go rejoicing, over bracken over stile,  
> and its soon we will be tramping out the last long mile.
> 
> Say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://raventhorin.tumblr.com/)


End file.
